


A Feeling of Longing

by norwegian_galaxies



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Because NORDEN IS LIFEEEE, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am so sorry, Imagination, Like I mean REALLY, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation and Imagination go Hand-in-Hand, Sad Ending, Sexual Content, This is really just Denmark masturbating, Undertones of Hygge I GUESS?!?!, depressing ending, dom!Norway, idk - Freeform, let's be real XD, sub!Denmark, yee, you know what they say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:13:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norwegian_galaxies/pseuds/norwegian_galaxies
Summary: Matthias is thinking about Lukas while he's alone.And then, he remembers something about Lukas' "business trip".





	A Feeling of Longing

**Author's Note:**

> ...  
> ...  
> ...  
>  WARNING:  
> MASTURBATION AND SEX THEMES...  
> ...  
> ...  
> ...  
> okay I'll go now, byeeeeeee  
> You'll probably hate me by the end of this...

The rain outside, he knew, was ice cold.

It was night, dark as obsidian, perhaps even like onyx. A few stars were able to grace the earth with their light--only but a few. And the clouds, those wispy ones that are lower than the others, made the light fade in and out.

It was surprising that there was much light at all, really--it was raining hard, the raindrops cold as ice, running down the bark of the fir trees clustered around the house.

The house was the house of Matthias Køhler, empty at the moment, save for the owner himself.

Perhaps that was a good thing, or it could be a bad thing, depending on how one looked at it. Nevertheless, Matthias had made certain that his home would not, in any way, shape, or form, be as cold and desolate as the outside of it. A fire roared in the hearth of every room, and the oil lamps flickered with flames.

Matthias was in his bed, covered in the warmer, heavier bedclothes that he used for the coldest days. He had donned a hoodie and sweatpants before he'd fallen gratefully into the waiting arms of sleep.

Usually, the waiting arms of sleep assumed the form of Lukas Bondevik. However, Lukas had left for a business trip that morning, so the arms of sleep were merely the blankets and sheets he was covered with.

'Twas a shame.

And yet, still, he tried to imagine that Lukas was still there, if only for a few moments.

The Norwegian's soft, cold skin would be next to his own, clashing with his own normally warm body temperature. His chest would be uncovered, open to the cool air in the room. Their hands would be entwined, and their bodies would be but a foot apart.

Then, Lukas would shift closer, nestle his head in the crook between Matthias' neck and shoulder. Occasionally, he'd suck on the skin near his mouth, the skin by Matthias' collarbone, and the Dane would moan softly, and whisper a small warning for him not to do such things.

Tonight, nothing was whispered, however; Matthias let Lukas do what he wanted. He wasn't truly there, so he didn't mind.

The rain trailed down the window slowly, and thunder rolled in the distance. The thunder was very far in the distance; Matthias couldn't be bothered with closing the shutters to keep the lightning (that would eventually come) from waking him.

The Dane pressed into the mattress below him, trying to ease the feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach; his sweatpants, the most comfortable piece of clothing he owned, slowly began to tighten, and he slowly slipped them down his legs, lifting his hips so he could do so.

His hoodie soon received the same fate; and yet he left one piece of clothing on his body, as his lover nearly always did until the last second.

He sighed. This was a normal thing to do when Lukas was gone, for him. He missed him, would try to hold a pillow in place of him, but it never really worked. Thankfully, his imagination was doing so that night. As he ran his calloused fingers down his sides, he imagined they were truly Lukas--imagined that the hands weren't so big and weren't so calloused, and were smaller, more deft, and smoothe.

And then, he imagined Lukas; his light blonde hair, his deep indigo eyes, his cross hairpin. He took it upon himself to roll onto his back and close his eyes as he watched the Lukas of his imagination above him, undoing his belt. There was a tent in Lukas' pants, and his face was dusted red.

Matthias felt his own face grow pink at his own mind--usually it wasn't capable of such suggestive things, yet here it was.

Lukas finally undid the belt buckle and removed said belt, then pulled off his jeans and shirt, leaving him in just his underwear, just like how Matthias was.

Matthias rustled among the bedclothes and wondered whether it would be better if he was outside or inside of the sheets--for one thing, it was very cold, but for another, so was Lukas' body, even when they had sex. He decided on outside, and the warmth from the fire was still strong, though he knew it would begin to recede sometime soon. He deemed it all right to stay out of the sheets, for then.

Lukas, for some reason, had some strange attachment to Matthias' nipples, and the Dane knew what he would do next. He wet his fingers with his mouth and squeezed the pink nub, almost immediately moaning. Yes, that must have been why--he was sensitive there.

He knew that while Lukas gave him this attention, he'd pull out something to tie his wrists to the headboard. But since his hands were required for this task, Matthias decided to forget about that for the time being.

One hand then descended-- the other still pleasing his nipples--beneath the waistband of his shorts and wrapped around his length, and he nearly gasped at how hard he already was. He stroked his own cock softly, hesitantly--which Lukas would never, in fact, do--confused at the feeling of his own, heated skin beneath his fingers. He hardly ever did things such as this, and even when he did, he had never actually touched his own cock, except for obvious times when it was a necessity.

His hands moved awkwardly, he was nowhere near as skilled as Lukas, and he removed his hands, sighing at this thought. Lukas seemed to know more about him than Matthias himself did. He had known since they'd met how to please Matthias, how to make him squirm, how to make his knees like jelly when they were in public. He'd known about Matthias' depression and anxiety and insecurities since two weeks after they'd met. His fingers were careful when they touched him, but sure of what they were doing. There was no way that Matthias could recreate that. He could recreate everything; the touches, the image of Lukas, but not the personality and elegance and poise and cautiousness behind him.

Either way, he was determined to finish what he had begun. He resumed the motions he'd started before, picturing Lukas above his wanton form once more, and spread his legs wider, breathing heavily out through his nose, sliding the shorts off teasingly slow.He reached towards the amalgam of pillows at the headboard and dragged one to lay his head on. Indeed, it was Lukas' pillow; it still carried the smell of his shampoo--it smelled of vanilla, autumn leaves, and spruce--and Matthias flipped over so his nose was buried in the scent and he was on his knees, his hand still between his thighs.

Lukas, still in Matthias' imagination, moved underneath Matthias, now, his destination clear. The Dane wet his hand and let one finger delve slightly into the slit of his cock, before his hand enveloped his girth, gripping tightly and moving quickly. He cursed, muffled by the pillow, and rolled his hips, trying to take away more pleasure from these actions than he was already getting.

As he continued, his hands began moving faster, his thrusts more sloppy and erratic into them, and various thoughts and images of Lukas flitted into his mind--the first time they'd had sex, when they thought Matthias would be a good top (when in reality, he wasn't) and Lukas ended up pounding into Matthias so hard that he could barely walk the next day; Lukas' moon-pale skin, covered in moonlight as he slept bare-chested beside the Dane; his indigo eyes and that shy, lustful smirk that was always on his face during intimacy. Matthias' formerly soft moans grew louder, until the fire suddenly flared, and he released onto the previously clean sheets and his hands.

He wiped his hands on the sheets and his slight afterglow was short-lived; he held the pillow tightly in his arms and squeezed, a wave of sadness crashing over him, for it was then that he remembered exactly why Lukas was gone.

 


End file.
